I always catch myself staring. Ever since I've walked past his practice room on my way to orchestra he's there, beating the hell out of his drums. His fringe goes over his eyes and his headphones are close to falling off, playing a familiar beat to a song I just can't remember the name of. I walk noticeably slower, earning a tough push from Brendon as we walk in the band room. I decide to ignore the orchestra today, saving my bass for another day.

“Spencer's awesome, isn't he? God, I wish I could do that. He always gets the better parts than me.” Brendon shrugs as he pulls a pair of 5As from his back pack and fixes his high hat. I sit somewhere around him, pulling out my phone and texting meaningless things to William.

I wish he'd talk to me. I'd call it a silent crush, me never having a conversation with him but just having awkward run ins in the hallway and crossing paths when it's my turn for the practice room. He's so cool, I think. What he does looks near impossible, but he makes it look so easy.

“Is Spencer in a band?” I ask without thinking, Brendon raising his eyebrows.

“Uh, define band,” Brendon says, smirking while tuning his low tom. “Him and that weird kid Ryan... and then that kid Brent... they apparently do covers.”

I nod once and Brendon coughs and clears his throat, him still feeling sick from last week. He was sick, really sick. As in 'I-collapsed-on-Jon-during-History-because-I-don't-drink-water' sick. “Still on death watch, Urie?” A voice teases. “And that weird kid Ryan happens to be pretty decent at guitar, and tae-kwon-do.”

Yeah, Christ, it's him. It's Spencer. And he looks good even when he's not drumming. Brendon turns even redder than he already was. “Yep, still sick. My mom even wanted the nurse to check on me between classes. And oh, spare me. Who would injure the sick?”

Spencer takes a seat in one of the black chairs. Not just one of the black chairs, but the one next to me.

Play it smooth, Walker. You got this.

Spencer- lord help me- turns to me but speaks to Brendon. “Sensei Ryan Ross, that's who.” His blue eyes stare right at me, a pleased grin on his face as he keeps up with his joking manner.

“Jon,” I introduce myself, then stretch my aching muscles by leaning back into my chair. I catch him looking down at my hips. Awesome.

“Spencer,” He greets.

Brendon grabs the side of his head and rubs it. I immediately take notice. “Feeling okay?”

“Yeah,”

“Are you sure? Want to go to the nurse? I'll walk with you and make sure you don't-”

“For fuck's sake, I'm fine.” Brendon snaps. I look over to Spencer who looks at Brendon and back at me. Brendon starts practicing a beat on drums and Spencer attentively listens, nodding his head to the beat and smiling encouragingly.

My backpack's lying on the chair on the other side of Spencer, and I get up to get Brendon some water. I'm not going to let him pass out again. Especially if I'm with him. He looks somewhat better from last week, but I'm not letting this be a one-step-forward-two steps-back deal. When a person collapses on you it's terrifying. That's all I have to say about that.

Brendon messes up on one beat and retries it, Spencer shifting in his seat and turning to me as I'm about to give the water to him. He just looks at me and I glance at him briefly, before turning to Brendon who stops drumming and takes the water.

“Thanks,” he says.

“Did they figure out what you had?” Spencer asks.

“Just a cold, it's nothing.”

I grunt. “Yeah, because people with a cold pass out. It was the flu.”

Spencer shakes his head, “You're such a Mom.”

We continue chatting about nonsense. Mostly it's Spencer and Brendon, talking about their favorite songs to play. I occasionally chime in with 'I love that song' and 'I can play it on bass' but mostly they're fully at it.

The last five minutes of the period are where Brendon changes his attention to the kid that walks up behind Spencer and slams his, quite large, hands onto Spencer's shoulders. Spencer yelps and pushes the hands off of him. “Ry! Not cool.”

I catch Brendon staring, similar to how I look at Spencer.

“How's it going?” He asks, putting his guitar case down and sitting down with us.

“Good. Except for Brendon over here. Sick as a dog.”

Brendon frowns.

Ryan mirrors Brendon. “I saw you during creative writing, you looked terrible. I almost came up to you to ask how you were doing but you looked out of it.”

“Are you sure? Maybe I should walk you to class.” Ryan motions to the door and Brendon grabs his things, walking with him.

Spencer and I just watch them leave, both of us in shock. Ryan's practically hovering over him, watching his every step.

This isn't fair. Why can't I fake sick and Spencer be all over me? Come on.

“So uh, it's only fair that I can walk you to class, I think.”

I may or may not be mentally screaming right now. YES.

I smile to him, (Brendon says I have a nice one so I decide to actually use it) and say a quick “sure”.

“So, were you really stretching or just trying to get me all bothered with those hips?”

I may pass out myself. Right here.

But I keep it together, “Both,” I manage. “Don't act like I didn't notice how close you sat yourself next to me when there were plenty of empty seats.”

“Touche.”

“So if it's okay with you, I think it's only fair that we get to know each other a little better? We can only torture ourselves for so long.” Okay, that was easy. I look around and make sure that wasn't a joke. Because Spencer Smith just asked me on a date? I never expected to even talk to him.

I nudge him playfully with my shoulder. “So what's the plan?”

Spencer makes this 'mm' sound with his lips in thought, and I can't help but want to just push him into the nearest closet and make him make that noise again.

I need to learn how to restrain my thoughts a little better, ugh.

“How about you and me go for Chipotle during lunch tomorrow?”

Forty minutes with him? Sounds like a plan. So casual- just the way I like dates to be.

“Sounds great.” I reply enthusiastically, making a halt in front of my class.

The bell rings, signaling that passing period is now over. “Awesome. Meet me by the flag at whenever lunch starts!” He says as he rushes away to his next class.

Oh god, he's adorable as he runs, putting his hands on his backpack straps and rushing down the hallway.

I'm more than excited for tomorrow.

-

Ryan's POV

We walk down the hallway in almost silence. Brendon isn't speaking even when I tried to talk to him. He's Brendon Urie. People say he talks a lot. “You know it's really rude of y-”

I watch him. Nobody mentioned he does this.

It happens so fast. His head turning, and a lost, almost panicked look in his eyes as he collapses. I catch him, holding him and bringing him down to the ground.

Everyone is staring. Everyone is freaking out. Brendon starts convulsing and his expression scares me. I hold his head, “Get someone! Get the nurse!” I yell at a random kid as I hold him. “Call someone, goddammit!”

“Brendon,” I say, firmly, as if I could get him to snap out of it. “Brendon,” I choke out again. I wait for him to stop shaking. Teachers are standing above him and me, watching me as I try to calm him down. He does stop, after at least two minutes.

He's silent, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Brendon's eyes refocus, to look right at me. “What happened?”

-

Jon's POV

Well apparently I'm seeing Spencer a little earlier than I anticipated. It's been ten minutes.

He knocks on the class room door urgently, earning a stare from most students and the teacher. My breath catches at the sight of Spencer, like he's just seen a ghost. He doesn't even let the teacher ask him why he's here. He whispers to him and I make out some words. “Jon Walker- friend- nurse- seizure-”

I stand up in my seat, ignore my things, and bolt out of the class room death grip on Spencer's hand. Tears are peeking through my eyes and I don't care enough to hold them back. I have so many questions. I can't even talk. I just run to the nurse.

“Jon, hey,” Spencer says between deep breaths as we run. I don't pay attention to him, I just want to know what happened to Brendon. He's been acting weird ever since he started drumming. The kid was more quiet, tried less, and was really jumpy when we talked about the least stressful things.

“I should have known!” I yelp. “I should have- ugh.”

Spencer squeezes my hand tighter. “There was nothing you could have done.”

I don't answer him because he was wrong.

--

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